The Side of the Road: A Radio Days Drama
by cwby30
Summary: Jack is hit by the rim of the tire, and lies on The Side of the Road...


The Side of the Road:

A Radio Days Drama

_No way in hell it's gonna end this way… Ennissss…can't see ya…can't see nothin'…don't wanta quit ya…didn't mean it… no…ain't fair…no…Ennisss…can't…Enn…_

* * *

"Would ya look at that!"

"Yeah, I see it, so what? Hey, what're ya pulling over for? Dammit! We're supposed to be high-tailin' it outta here, not stopping to see some truck pulled off..."

"Shut up, will ya just shut up! I know what I'm doin'. We'll take this one, and ditch the one we're in, the cops won't be able to trace the new one, it'll put 'em off our scent, give us more time."

"I'm not sure about this, don't think it's such a good idea. If you ask me…."

"Well, I didn't ask ya, and that's why I do the thinking for the two of us. We're stopping."

Tires crunch weeds and gravel. Truck stops, leaning at a slight angle away from the asphalt. Doors open and close. Shoes hit the ground, footsteps propel two men to the front of their stopped truck. Both stop dead in their tracks.

"Shit, there's a body lying over there. Told you not to stop. We gotta get outta here before someone sees us! Things're bad enough without the cops pinning a bum murder rap on us too."

"And who's gonna tell 'em anything about it, huh? Not me! Shit! Would ya look at that! Looks like the fuckin' tire rim hit him square in the face. Hard way to go. Come on, let's get a tire on this thing and get goin."

"What about… him… it?"

"What about it? If it bothers ya, roll it over face down, then get your ass over here and help me. Looks like we'll have to use the spare outta the other truck. Hurry it up will ya? Can use some help with this. And get his wallet while you're at it, we can use the cash."

"Sorry fella."

Body gets rolled over, face turned away, wallet taken from the back pocket, fancy ring taken from the left hand, won't need that any more either.

Tire changed, blown tire and rim thrown into the truck bed.

"Okay, let's get going. Best make the switch down the road, away from the body. I'll drive our truck, you drive the dead guy's and follow me."

"Why me?"

"'Cause I said so, that's why. Now get in and drive… or would ya rather join your 'friend' over there?"

"No, I mean yes… I'll follow you…"

"More like it."

Doors open and close, and one opens again.

"What now?"

"No keys, must be in his pocket."

"So, go get 'em."

"Let's just leave…"

"Go get the fucking keys or so help me…"

"Okay, okay, I'm going, I'm going, okay?"

Eyes see the blood seeping out of the mouth and look quickly away, hands tug at the body, check the left front pocket finding some cash, take it, then tug at the other side, reach in and grasp keys, and the body groans, coughs, throws up blood.

_Shit, he's alive! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What do I do? Can't tell…but if I leave him, he'll…_

"What the hell's taking you so long? Get the keys and get in the truck, dammit."

_He didn't hear it! Shit! Sorry fella, guess it's me or you, woulda happened anyway if we hadn't found ya._ "Coming, found some cash in his other pocket."

"Good man."

Door closes. Engines start. Tires crunch gravel, hit asphalt, pull away. Silence.

* * *

"What're we stopping here for?"

"The dead guy's truck's low on gas, and I need a pit stop."

"Don't talk so loud! Well, hurry up, wanta ditch this other truck and get going, can't do that here."

"Here's the cash I found in his pocket, you fill it and I'll hit the head."

"Just hurry it up."

Coin falls in the slot in the payphone around back outside the door marked "Men."

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"There's this guy lying on the side of the road, face down, Devil's Hill Road, about 10 miles south of Highway 42, hurt real bad."

"Devil's Hill Road?"

"That's what I said."

"What are the nature of his injuries? Is he awake?"

"Don't know, his face is all bashed in, barely breathing, not awake."

"Sir, could you verify…"

"Hey! Who the fuck are ya talking to?"

Struggle. Click. The line goes dead.

* * *

"Any identification on him?"

"Wallet says a Jack Twist, 39, from Childress, Texas. Registration says the truck belongs to him too."

"Wonder what brought him this far west?"

"Don't know. Hard way to go, tire rim in the face, drowning in your own blood."

"Yeah. Fancy ring on his left hand, who's gonna tell his widow?"

"Let dispatch handle that."

* * *

Tires crunch weeds and gravel. Truck stops, leaning at a slight angle away from the asphalt. Doors open and close. Shoes hit the ground, footsteps propel two men around to the back of their stopped truck. More doors open, more tires rolling, crunching weeds. Two men stoop down, their hands encased in rubber gloves. Body is moved, lifted.

Doors close. Tires crunch on weeds and gravel. Siren wails.

"IV's working fine, pulse thready, better hurry on this one."

"Any identification on him?"

"Nope. Caller didn't give any name either."

"Any clue where he's from?"

"Pockets are cleaned out, looks like he had a wedding ring, gone. Only thing is this postcard, cancellation from some place in Wyoming."

"Wonder what brought him this far south."

"Don't know. Seein' what someone did to his face, musta really not liked this guy, to do that. Good thing he ended up face down, coulda drowned in his own blood. What a way to go that would a been."

"Yeah. Glad we don't have to tell his widow."

"Maybe he isn't married any more."

"Who's gonna figure this one out?"

"Let dispatch handle it."

* * *

Double doors separate with a whoosh, opening barely in time to miss being hit by the rolling gurney, hot air meeting cold air. Two men in blue on either side rush gurney in. Man on the gurney, head strapped, IV, bloody face, tube down his throat. Men and women in green clothes and white jackets run over, questions fly, answers follow, staccato.

"Injuries? Vitals? Blood pressure? Any ID?"

Doors open, trained hands encased in rubber gloves cut away clothing, strip off boots, wash off blood, prod, insert tubes, read monitors.

"OR three is ready, team's scrubbing, get him up there, STAT!"

"We're losing him, team, and that ain't gonna happen on my watch, haven't lost one like this yet!"

_That what I look like? Shit, what happened to my face? Oh yeah, fuckin' tire, shouldn't a hit it, but was so damn frustrated…. Don't lose me doc, don't wanta be lost, Ennis can't find me if I'm lost. Hope I look like myself when you're done with me._

"Quit blowing on my neck."

_Sorry._

"No one's behind you, doctor. Should I turn down the AC?"

"No, just put a drape over my neck, should take care of it. Need a clamp there, clamp off that bleeder."

_Take care of me, doc. Take real good care of me, for Ennis. _

* * *

"Any identification?"

"No, doctor."

"What about his clothes, check the pockets?"

"EMTs did at the scene, nurse in the ER did the same, nothing."

"Where are the clothes?"

"Says here the shirt, pants and underwear were thrown out, blood on them, but they did save one leather belt with rodeo-style buckle and pair of brown leather tooled cowboy boots."

_Maybe you should look closer at them._

"Where are they, the boots?"

"Over there, in the cabinet."

Door opened, rustling around.

"Thought so."

_Bingo, doc._

"What did you find, doctor?"

"Piece of paper in the toe of the boot, has a name and phone number on it to call in case of an emergency. Remembered an old trick we used to use back during my Air Force days, we would stick our IDs and some cash in the toe of our shoes when we went into the City, just in case some pickpocket lifted the rest or we spent it, we'd have something to get home. Wonder if the draft got him, too?"

_Naw, too busted up, even for the Army. Ennis is the only one ever got me. Call him, doc._

"Think we better give a call to this Ennis del Mar."

* * *

"Well, good morning, Elizabeth, how's our favorite mystery patient this morning?"

"Good morning, doctor. His vitals are good, pulse is strong, breathing regular, no problems since we removed the ventilator, pupils respond to light, just hasn't woken up." Sound of pages flipping.

_So that was you and not the staircase to heaven._

"He hasn't come out of it yet at all? Not able to say anything?"

_Been talking a blue streak, but you're not listening._

"Not yet, doctor, two weeks so far and no sign of waking up. You did a fine job on his face, doctor, he's lucky you were on-call."

"It was a challenge, just hope it's how he used to look, didn't have any picture to work from. Won't be too much scarring, nothing a little plastic surgery later on can't fix."

_Yeah, I really do look like my old self, doc, don't know how to thank ya for that yet, but I will sometime, you can bet on it._

Hands gently move the head one side, then the other, then back in the middle, linger.

"Any luck contacting Mr. del Mar?"

"No, sir. I tried, but the number's been disconnected with no new number, and information doesn't have any other person with that last name listed in that city. I've tried a couple of other cities up there, but so far no other persons by that name."

_Told him to get a phone, the dumbass._

"Damn! I don't like this, he's been out too long, but the chart says he's doing well. Look, how about you call the police department up there, see if they can find that guy."

"Hadn't thought of that, I'll try this morning, doctor."

"Let me know the minute you find out anything. And have maintenance check the AC in here, feel a draft on the patient, coming from over my shoulder, need to redirect it."

_Sorry, Doc._

"Yes, doctor."

Door closed.

"Don't worry, John Doe, we'll find your friend for you and in the meantime take real good care of you for him."

_Thanks doc._

Doctor looks to his side, frowning, thinks he felt something touch his shoulder, brushes it off.

* * *

Tires on dirt, stop. Car door opens and closes. Boots walk on dirt, up steps. Another door opens.

"Anybody home?"

"Howdy. Matt, come on in, what brings you out here?"

"Mornin', Alex, Ennis del Mar"

"Del Mar? What'd he do?"

"Nothin', I think. He around?"

"No, took a couple of days off, said a friend had died and he had to go see the parents."

"Say where?"

"No. Did you ask his ex?"

"Alma? Got a big no and a door closed in my face."

"No love lost there, that's for sure. What's this all about?"

"Not sure, had a call from a hospital in Texas, said a friend of his was in an accident and they needed to talk with him. Wouldn't give me any more information, patient privacy and all that. Have him call me when he gets back, okay?"

"Sure enough. You and Mary going to the Elks Club picnic next weekend?"

* * *

_Dammit, Ennis, where are you? Put yer name in my boot every trip, just in case, and look what happens! Doc finds it and I'm still lyin in this bed, while you're off gallivanting somewhere, probably with that waitress of yours just to prove to yourself ya ain't a queer after spending a week in the mountains with yer dick up my ass and mine up yers. Dammit, Bud! Just for that, I'm gonna stay asleep until you get here. And maybe even for a while once you do! _

"Did he say what it was about?"

"Just said to have you call him when you get back. Sorry to hear about yer friend. How'd it go with his parents?"

"Hard."

"Yeah, well, go ahead and use the phone, make any calls you need to make, and don't worry about any charges, we can settle up later on."

Footsteps across the wooden floor, door opens and closes. Silence. Then a telephone beeping as numbers are pushed.

"Can I speak with Deputy Traynor? … Ennis del Mar, he asked me to call him. … Yeah, I'll wait."

"Traynor."

"Ennis del Mar, ya needed to talk to me?"

"Thanks for calling, del Mar. Nothing you did, so relax. Had a phone call a couple of days ago from a hospital down in Texas, asked us to find you and have you call a Doctor Kelley about a friend of yours."

"What friend?"

"Didn't say, just that you should call him. Got a pen and paper?"

"Yeah, go ahead… okay… okay… thanks"

"Any idea what it's about?"

"No sir."

"Well, I've given you the message, up to you now."

"Yes sir, gonna call right now, thanks."

* * *

"Good morning, Drs. Kelley and Osborne."

"Um, this is Ennis del Mar, up in Wyoming, Doctor Kelley wanted me to call."

"Oh yes, Mr. del Mar, we're so glad you called, we've been trying to find you for over a week. I'll get Doctor Kelley, he's with a patient but said to let him know the minute you called."

"Thank ya, Ma'am."

"Dr. Kelley. Is this Ennis del Mar?"

"Yeah, it is. What's this all about?"

"You know anybody in Texas?"

Pause.

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"Why you want to know?"

"Okay. I'll level with you, Mr. del Mar. I have a patient at County General, victim of some kind of accident or crime, face was bashed in, no other injuries, just to his head, no identification, I operated on him over three weeks ago, came through okay, but he's still in a coma, and I'm worried."

Sound of breath sucked in.

"So how'd you get my name?"

"Our John Doe was wearing boots. I found a slip of paper in the toe of one of them, had your name and phone number to call in case of an emergency."

Silence.

"Um, what does he look like?"

"Pretty damn good, if I do say so myself, after fixing his injuries. He's just over six feet tall, 195 or so, good shape physically, probably what brought him though all this, black hair with a little gray starting at the temples, cut fairly recently before the… um, incident, and blue eyes all the nurses are talking about."

Silence.

"Mr. del Mar? You okay? You still there?"

"Yeah… he's… he's okay, alive… he ain't…"

"Dead? No, he's very much alive, but like a said, in a coma. Sounds like you know him."

"Yeah… I know him. His name's… name's… Jack…"

"Jack what?"

"Jack… Sullivan."

"Any family?"

Pause.

"Yeah… but it's just… just… me now, him and me, all we got, just each other."

Silence.

"Doc, you still there?"

"Yes, yes, I am. He's lucky to have you then."

"Goes both ways."

"Um, any way you can come down here? I know it's a long way, but I'm sure it would do a world of good for you to be here, talk to him, patients in comas can hear and frankly, like I said, I'm worried about him being in this coma much longer, maybe hearing your voice would to the trick."

Silence.

"Mr. del Mar?"

"Yeah… umm… Sorry… I can be down there tomorrow some time, need ta do a few things, talk ta my boss, but I'll be there soon as I can."

"Great! I'm looking forward to meeting you. Ever been down this way before? No? Well, I'll give you directions to the hospital. Got a pen and paper? You get on I-25 and head south through Denver and…"

* * *

Door opens. Boots walk in, stop just inside the door. Door closes. Boots walk slowly across the room. Chair creaks as someone sits down. Hand wraps around hand, gently, caressing it. Monitors beep, keeping vigil.

"Jack? Cowboy? Jack? Can ya hear me? Please… can ya hear me? Came as fast as I could, sheriff told me yesterday, called Doc Kelley, told me how to get here…"

Deep breath.

_Ennis? That you? About time ya showed up, Bud. Where you been? Damn uncomfortable lyin' here all this time. Think I feel every bone I ever broke, and then some._

"Doc Kelley said ya nearly died while he was fixin' ya up, and ya never woke up since and he's real concerned about ya. Think he's figured us out, didn't say nothin', just the way he talked ta me on the phone and looked at me when I got here… scares the hell outta me, Cowboy, what if… but I ain't leavin here alone... ain't leavin' ya… can't do it no more…"

Wet drops hit the entwined hands and the white blanket with blue strip covering the breathing body. Quiet sobs intermingle with steady beeps.

"Thought ya were dead, got my postcard back, said ya were… were… deceased. Called Lureen, she said the same thing, sounded like she didn't care. Went ta see yer folks, they said they had yer ashes but yer fuckin' dad wouldn't let me have 'em. Found me somethin' else, though… in yer room… yer ma made sure I got them… took 'em with me, got 'em with me… Dammit, Cowboy! Dammit. Thought ya were dead, thought… thought…felt like I'd fuckin' died too… I…"

_The shirts! Ya found the shirts? You got our shirts?_

"Took me more fuckin' hours than I can count getting' here… had ta stop more'n once… puked my guts out on the side of the road… should never have left ya… all them years…"

_Enn, ,don't beat yerself up any more about that, we both…_

Free hand moves to rest on opposite shoulder, as if to cover something already resting there.

"Come back ta me, Jack, ya just gotta come back ta me. Never meant what I said, not really. Was scared, ashamed, mad at you… at me… at everythin'… I… I… couldn't think straight… I promise we'll have that sweet life, wherever ya want, whatever ya want, just say so, please… Jack? Don't leave me alone, don't leave me, Jack, can't quit ya, don't quit me, I'll do anything, I swear…"

_Never asked ya ta swear anythin'… Oh, Bud… I…_

Second hand moves from shoulder to join other the hands, bowed head touches the hands. Monitors beep more often, green lines jump higher, not so regular any more. Quiet sobs still intermingle with the beeps, oblivious of any change. Words are spoken as if pushed out by the sobs, a mantra, a prayer, over and over.

"Don't leave me, don't quit me, can't stand it, gonna fix it, I love you, don't leave me, don't quit me… don't… don't… die..."

_Wait! You love me? Ennis del Mar said he loves me! Shit, Bud, twenty years and… I love you too, ya hear that… ya hear me?… 'Course ya can't… gotta wake up… gotta… _

"Me… too."

Words spoken so softly almost drowned out by the beeping and the prayers of the other. Head snaps up, searching the other face, hands still holding hand.

"What?!"

Face leans in close to the other face, searching.

"Me… too."

Eyelids flutter, mouth makes words that sound like rough sandpaper on raw wood.

"What, Jack, what?"

"Luv… ya… dumbass."

Lips to hands, then lips to lips, no moustache to interfere. More wet drops fall, this time mingling with streaks of wetness on cheeks below. One hand moves to caress a cheek, thumb slides gently over the cheek, streaking the wetness in its attempt to remove it. Hand remains there.

"Water…"

"Huh?"

"Thirsty, need something, mouth dry."

"Nurse! Nurse! He's awake… Nurse!"

Hand squeezes hand squeezing hand, won't let go. Ever.

* * *

Double doors open with a whoosh, cold air meets hot air. Tires roll on cement, stop. Door opens, boots hit cement, take two steps, and climb into the waiting truck. Door closes.

"Well, Mr. … Sullivan, guess this is good bye. You have the instructions, and a supply of the meds, and if you need more, you have a prescription you can fill at any pharmacy. And call me in a month and let me know how you're doing and where you are, so we can schedule a follow-up and evaluate for plastic surgery on those scars. And watch what you eat for the next week or so, your stomach still hasn't fully recovered from being fed intravenously for over two weeks."

"Sure, Doc, got it all right here in this bag. Not too much meds, not too much food, not too much time b'fore callin' ya. Mighty glad you were there to take care of my face, and ya took real good care of me for Ennis, just like I asked and just like ya promised me up in the room. I'd like ta pat ya on the shoulder, but can't reach it from here, so a handshake will have ta do."

Frown.

"How'd you…"

Wide grin appears on a face with several fading red scars, but which definitely looks like the face Ennis del Mar knows by heart after almost twenty years, as two men shake hands through the window of the truck. The other now speaks up, reaches out his hand.

"Thanks again, Doc, fer everythin'. Don't know how I can ever pay ya back, but I'll do it soon as I can."

"Soon as _we_ can, Bud, as soon as _we_ can."

"Yeah, _we_…"

"Again, I appreciate the offer, guys, but you don't have to do that, like I told you, it's pro bono, it's on me and the hospital."

"Still don't understand that pro bono stuff, but it sure came in handy fer us. Say, can I ask ya a question?"

"Shoot."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why fer Jack, fer us? How come us?"

Grey eyes looked at deep brown eyes and sky blue eyes.

"Let's just say someone I know did a big favor for me a long time ago, and it's my turn to do a big favor for someone else, someone like… like him…"

Deep brown eyes and sky blue eyes smile, had before noticed the gold band on the ring finger of the left hand, had heard parts of one-side of telephone calls to home, know what he meant without saying more.

"Doc..."

"Go on, you two, get going, and don't look back except to call me in a month."

Second door of truck opens and closes, engine starts, tires crunch some gravel as the truck moves across asphalt, gaining speed. Hands wave out windows, hand waves back, as the truck makes the second turn and disappears out of sight.

Double doors whoosh open and closed, hot air meeting cold.

They did both.

_The End_


End file.
